


to my heart as i go along

by arabesque05



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-31
Updated: 2013-07-31
Packaged: 2017-12-22 00:53:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/906973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arabesque05/pseuds/arabesque05
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every now and then, when they're back inside the walls, Erwin invites Mike out for drinks. Mike always agrees. "You smell better drunk," he explains. Erwin doesn't ask.</p>
<p>"He smells like a vat of alcohol," says Levi darkly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	to my heart as i go along

**Author's Note:**

> for the [snkkink meme prompt](http://snkkink.dreamwidth.org/2124.html?thread=1947980#cmt1947980): "Erwin gets drunk. You have free reign on the hows, whys, wherefores, tone, everything - crack, introspection, angst, gen, porn, AU, whatever. Just run with it, and hopefully enjoy. Let's give this meme more Erwin appreciation! :D" 
> 
> Title stolen from [the poem](http://structureandstyle.tumblr.com/post/27850063712/to-my-heart-as-i-go-along) by Kenneth Koch.

Every now and then, when they're back inside the walls, Erwin invites Mike out for drinks. Mike always agrees. "You smell better drunk," he explains. Erwin doesn't ask.  
  
"He smells like a vat of alcohol," says Levi darkly.  
  
"You're just jealous that they didn't invite you," Hanji laughs, patting Levi on the back. Though, really, they are less "pats" and more "friendly punches to the spine." Erwin suspects that neither Hanji nor Levi can tell the difference.  
  
"I am not," declares Levi, with what might be a scowl, except it doesn't really look that different from his usual expression.  
  
"The only reason they don't invite you is because you are complete shit at holding your alcohol," coos Hanji. "It's all right. It's because you are so tiny. You can't help it."  
  
"I'll kill you," says Levi.  
  
"In fact!" continues Hanji, in complete  _non sequitur_. "I bet that is why. Do you think my babies, being so large, are good at holding alcohol? Come now, Levi, don't sulk! I will drink with you! My babies will drink with you! Come along!" She seizes Levi by the arm--risking life and dismemberment because, truly, there is no braver woman in all the corps than Hanji Zoe--and dashes off with him in tow.  
  
"Levi's in a good mood today," observes Mike.  
  
"Yes," says Erwin. He's grateful for Hanji much of the time: bright, sunny Hanji, unfettered by Erwin's staid reserve, who drags Levi hither and thither, ever unafraid of Levi's own quirks of personality. Erwin does not need to worry that Levi is too often left to his own devices, does not need to worry that Levi grows bored and lonely. Erwin might wish sometimes that it were not  _only_  up to Hanji but--  
  
That does not bear thinking about. Erwin knows his duty.  
  
\--  
  
"You're an idiot," says Mike later, over third rounds of beer. They're at the bar, a dish of peanuts between them. Outside of the Wall Sina, there are more pubs than bars--rough, smoky affairs, hearty and unaffected. Erwin does not like to think himself "slumming", necessarily, but sometimes he finds such coarseness comfortable. Sharp edges were always hidden, inside the Wall Sina, and you never knew their presence until you turned your back. Levi, on the other hand, is like a drawn blade, bare metal gleaming in the sunlight.  
  
"There you go again," says Mike. He sniffs the air, and then makes a face. "Still nothing. Bartender! Can we get another pitcher?"  
  
"Why, Mike Zakarius," says Erwin, amused. "Are you trying to get me drunk?"  
  
"When do you ever drag me out to taverns without the intention of getting drunk?" replies Mike. "Mind--I'm not complaining. Better you get drunk with me than by yourself somewhere. At least there, you got your head screwed on right."  
  
"Thank you," says Erwin, gravely inclining his head in a half-bow. "I am quite undone by such praise."  
  
The bartender slides them another pitcher as Mike had asked. Mike picks it up and grimly pours Erwin another glass of beer. "Now what's it about this time? Saw him take out three fifteen-meters by himself and not splatter a splatter on him, did you?"  
  
"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about," says Erwin, but he accepts the beer and sips at it.  
  
Mike tops off his own glass. "Ah, go on--play dumb, eh?  _Commander_."  
  
The judgment in his tone is rather quelling. Erwin concedes, "He was rather magnificent yesterday, wasn't he?"  
  
"Fucking  _ridiculous_  is what he is," says Mike, feelingly. "I don't know where the hell you found him but, fine job as you're doing with Recon, maybe they should switch you over to Recruiting."  
  
"I wish I could take the credit," says Erwin. "But it was the other way around. He found me."   
  
Mike grunts, encouraging.   
  
Erwin thinks about what else to say: about a boy, who had been small and skinny and all razor-sharp edges; who had pickpocketed Erwin's wallet and--upon seeing that he was with the Recon Corps--returned it two minutes later; and stayed to walk with Erwin down the length of six city blocks, gravely asking if the Recon Corps were perhaps better and more skilled than the Military Police. He'd heard that the Military Police only took top recruits, but he hoped that it was only because they stayed inside the Wall Sina that they were so soft and slow; otherwise, if the Military Police really were the best of the three branches, then humanity was doomed for certain. Not that he was concerned--he just had an academic interest, of sorts.  _Academic, of course,_  agreed Erwin blandly. The boy didn't quite smile, but there was something of sharp humor in the way his eyes flickered up to meet Erwin's; and Erwin thought, then and there,  _Erwin Smith, there will be no greater victory in your entire life than if you can keep him._  The boy hadn't exactly allowed himself to be kept; but at the end of three weeks of what Erwin called recruitment and the boy (with his sharp, sly humor) called "wooing", he followed Erwin out of the Wall Sina.  
  
Erwin thinks about saying all this--but it is at once too distant a history to be worth mentioning, and too dearly-kept a memory to be shared. Instead, he says, "He was bored, playing with the Military Police. I told him killing Titans would be more fun."  
  
"You're actually as fucking crazy as he is, aren't you?" says Mike, and reaches for the pitcher again.  
  
\--  
  
Over sixth rounds, Mike gets a little loose-tongued himself. "Not that I wax poetic like you, of course," he says. "I didn't go to some fancy-shit school."  
  
"I am fairly certain I have never waxed poetic over anything," says Erwin, blinking slowly. The alcohol has gone to his head a bit as well: not terrible, but sentences require some effort. He speaks slower. "Well, maybe for new recruits. They do require a little bit of...ah, wooing."  
  
Mike wrinkles his nose. "'M not going to ask," he announces. "Why you suddenly smell like Corporal Clean Freak. You know what he smells like?"  
  
"No," says Erwin, except: of course he does. The smell of him on cold winter mornings, lying in ambush; the smell of him after a battle, sweaty and covered in Titan gore; the smell of him on lazy mornings, burrowing deeper into his bedsheets; the smell of him, fresh after a bath, the hair at the nape of his neck still damp.  
  
"Like lemon zest," continues Mike. "'Course, that's probably not what you're thinking, eh?"  
  
Erwin slides him a look from the corner of his eyes. Mike leans in closer. "Oh, and there's that scary face. It's all right." He taps the side of his nose. "I can keep a secret. You: sometimes you get all romantic watching your boy go all psychopath on Titans. Me: sometimes I think Hanji doesn't smell half-bad, when she's excited about her babies. Might not be bad if she had some real babies--"  
  
"It would be a  _disaster_ ," says Erwin. "My god, she would forget about them  _all the time_." He pauses. "And I don't get...I don't get romantic, that's not--"  
  
Mike pours him some more beer. "Eh? What is not? Oh, romantic  _in bed_ , is it?" he leers.  
  
"Fuck you," says Erwin.  
  
"You're so drunk," laughs Mike. Mike, flushed and slurring a little bit, is in no position to judge. Erwin--magnanimous soul that he is--does not call Mike out on it.   
  
\--  
  
"First of all, he's not a boy," Erwin says. His collar is unbuttoned and he's lost his jacket sometime ago. He's also lost count of which round they're on. "Second of all,  _I'm_  hardly going to rake you over the coals for frater-fraten--....for regs. I don't know what you're dithering about."  
  
"No way you're getting me to believe that he's actually thirty-something. Nobody's  _that_  baby-faced," Mike replies, flicking peanut shells at Erwin. "And I like a career woman. I'm not in a hurry. I like seeing her happy working."  
  
"There's career woman, and then there's..." Erwin trails off. There are no words for Hanji's enthusiasm. He settles for, "I like seeing her happy working too."  
  
"Ten bucks she got Levi drunk and then forgot 'bout him for the Titans," laughs Mike.  
  
"Sucker's bet," says Erwin.  
  
"God, probably shitshow at camp right now," says Mike. "Think he's got the entire Corps turned out for surprise inspections?"  
  
"Cleanliness is next to godliness," says Erwin piously.  
  
"How many of 'em failed?"  
  
"Oh, at least half," says Erwin. "He's probably making them scrubbing the flagstones in the dungeons." He stares at his beer for a moment. "'S all right. Builds character."  
  
"Fuck character. I'm glad we're out drinking," Mike pats Erwin on the shoulder. "Was a good idea. You're all right, Commander, for a fellow who don't smell like anything half the time."  
  
\--  
  
"You smell  _terrible_ ," says Levi, after Erwin stumbles home with Mike. Levi helps Erwin heave Mike into bed, and then half-ushers half-bullies Erwin back to his own quarters.  
  
"Did you make everyone scrub the dungeon flagstones again?" asks Erwin. He is not so drunk that he can't struggle out of his jacket and boots by himself. Levi is a sword, but one does not use a sword to cut bread; he may follow Erwin for now, but Erwin is hardly going to think him  _tamed_. There is no way Erwin makes Levi play valet.  
  
"Only half of them," says Levi, perched on Erwin's desk. He holds out a glass of water. "It's all right. It's good for character."  
  
"Yes," says Erwin, with a small laugh. He accepts the water and drinks it. Levi waits until he is finished, and then takes back the glass. Erwin sets to work on his boots. He says, quietly, "Did you wait up for me?"  
  
Levi slips off the desk, and picks up Erwin's jacket from where he had let it fall on the floor. "You'd leave your clothes lying around everywhere. Wrinkles all over the place," he says, distastefully. He snaps the jacket out and drapes it over the chair.  
  
"Thank you," Erwin smiles. "My clothes appreciate your rescue."  
  
"Tomorrow, I am going to start in on your filing system. I saw your office today. Your filing system is utter shit," says Levi. He looks around the room--but it is not in any unacceptable state of disarray. Erwin half expects him to leave, then--he never did like the smell of alcohol, and Erwin is not exactly well put-together at the moment; but instead, Levi takes off his own jacket, and his boots, and his pants, to clamber into bed.   
  
 _Levi_ , Erwin wants to says, and maybe even more than that; to wax poetic, perhaps. But he doesn't. He only stands, boot in one hand, watching Levi--with his quick-silver limbs, the sharp jut of his hipbones, still made of razor sharp edges after all these years. Levi is saying, "I don't care if you're on a tight budget, there's no reason for you to color coordinate with only three colors. I won't get started on the  _reams_  of paper just stacked everywhere. It is a complete  _mess_ , Erwin."  
  
"Oh," says Erwin. He gets into bed too, and pulls covers up. Levi is all pale skin and darkly sloe-eyed in the moonlight. "Yes," says Erwin, a little dry-throated.  _You will be a complete idiot, Erwin Smith,_  he thinks,  _if ever you give him reason to leave._  
  
"What?" asks Levi, when the silence hangs too long.  
  
"You..." Erwin says, tentative the way he never is when sober. "...are not bored, then?"  
  
Levi stares at him for a long moment. "Did you not hear anything I just said?" he demands. "About your office? How am I supposed to be bored-- _how am I supposed to rest_ \--when you work in such a pigsty?"  
  
"Pigsty," murmurs Erwin faintly.  
  
"Drunk," declares Levi. "You are completely drunk. I will yell at you tomorrow, when you can remember."  
  
"That does seem best," agrees Erwin, laying his head down on the pillows next to Levi. Then he lifts it up again. "Shall I go bathe first?" he asks. "Is the smell too--"  
  
"Tomorrow," says Levi, eyes already closed. He is loose and relaxed next to Erwin, already slipping into sleep; and when Erwin slides on arm over his waist, Levi is warm. So Erwin curls around that warmth and holds it close.   
  
"Thank you," he murmurs into Levi hair, which perhaps does smell a little like lemon zest; and follows him into sleep.


End file.
